


Drabble

by orphan_account



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Smut I wrote for a friend. This doesn't really mean I'm back, but hey.





	Drabble

I’m sitting on the couch, watching some sort of movie. I’m curled up, knees to my chest, leaning on the arm of the sofa. You come from the other room and sit down, close to me, but not quite touching yet. You ask what I’m watching. I tell you. I scoot over a little bit closer, so my legs are leaning on you instead of the sofa. I look up at you and ask if you really want to watch this. You say no. I smile and make my way into your lap. You know what I want. I know you know what I want. I know you want it too.  
One of your hands holds onto the side of my face and guides it so I’m looking right at you. It’s just a moment of hesitation, almost-but-not-quite asking if this is okay, and I flush pink. Yes, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. 

You kiss me. My knees pull in closer to my chest, my left hand clutches onto the front of your shirt and my right moves up to your neck. One of your hands is holding onto my back, right ad the divot at the bottom, while the other stays cupping my face. It’s pulling me closer as you move your lips, like you’re directing me what to do. My fingers tighten their hold on your jacket. I love the feeling of your tongue in my mouth, toying with mine; your teeth nipping my lip every now and then.

The hand holding my face slides down over my body, down my chest, till you have the bottom of my hoodie within your fist. You leave a trail of kisses from my mouth to my cheek, up the side of my face, at the same time moving your other hand from the small of my back to the base of my skull. You pull me close, so your mouth grazes my ear, and you order me in a whisper to take it off.

It sends a shiver through my body, but not as much as when you tug on my ear with your teeth immediately afterwards.

You help guide the sweatshirt over my head, flinging it aside. You do the same with my tshirt. My torso is bare, save for my necklace—I stopped wearing a bra a long time ago. You told me to. I learned.

Your hands move to the sides of my ribs, and you pull me, reposition me so that I’m facing you, my legs straddling your torso in a kneeling position. I’m wearing pajama pants, the ones with stars; I expected to go to bed after the film. The way that I’m sitting makes me slightly taller than you, but that’s okay for what you want. You leave a few last dry kisses on my lips, before bending your head down to suck at my collarbone. It’s already littered with hickeys, some fresh, others days old. You want to add another. I don’t mind. Your mouth sucking at my skin, biting, leaving something on me, it’s one of the most exquisite sensations I’ve experienced. 

As you’re working on your lovebite, your hands move to the front of my body, sliding up to cup my tits. While your palms work at the skin there, massaging, I bend forward just enough to bury my face in the top of your head. My own hands move to pull your head closer to my body.

You’re finished marking my body, for now. You pull away a bit to look at your work, and one thumb moves up to rub the sensitive area. It’s red, and already bruising, and the cold air burns against the traces of your saliva that still reside on my skin. But it’s so fucking good.

You look at me, and your expression is unreadable. My hands are still cradling your head, and for a moment they tighten, fearing I’ve done something wrong. But then you tell me that I’m such a fucking whore. That you could feel my hips rubbing against your midsection that whole time.

I hadn’t even noticed it. I was so occupied by your tongue and teeth.

I tell you that I know I’m a whore. I tell you that I need to feel you.

You tell me that I better not need it, because I am your whore and I will do what you want when you want me to. And you want to do what you wish to me first.

I tell you yes, of course. You know how to make me feel so unbelievably good.

Your mouth moves down to my right nipple, and your tongue swirls around it for a moment before actually touching it. Your left hand’s movements become distracted and fade as you opt to instead press your hands behind my back and pull my body closer to you. My hands are back in your hair, weaving in and out, trying to cope with the incredible sensation of your lips sucking tight against my nipple. It’s hard as a stone, and you use that to your advantage the most you can, grabbing it with your teeth and pulling gently. This elicits a whimper from me, and I tug gently at your hair. I want more. I want so much more. 

You keep going, biting, sucking, nibbling at my nipple. At some point, you switch to my left, but I can hardly tell because the sensation itself is still so powerful. It’s at this point I become conscious that I am, in fact, rubbing my crotch against you, trying to achieve some sort of friction or relief. 

When you’re satisfied with how you’ve treated my nipples, you start trailing kisses down my stomach. You have to lean much farther forward, and your strong hands let me sink backwards slightly so you can reach all the way to the waistline of my pants.

I suggest going to the bed. You agree, and your hands slide down to my ass to lift me up. I cling to you, both because I don’t want to fall and I don’t want to lose a second of your touch. 

You pick me up and walk me to the bed, where you lay me on my back, settling between my legs. You’re so gentle, treating me as if I will break—just moments before, you had been biting me like I was invincible. I love you, I whisper.

I love you too, you tell me.

You keep kissing me like nothing’s stopped. I lift my hips when you eventually pause and decide to pull my pants off. Again, you fling them aside, so I’m just left in a pair of black panties. Traces of hickeys poke out from the top of my underwear, along the ridge of my hipbone. That’s another spot you know I love. You take a moment to examine me, sit back, softly rub one of my thighs. You’re looking at every inch of me. My toes are curled, knees bent, almost trembling but not quite. My hands clutch onto the sheets. Every breath makes my chest heave, and you can see me looking at you from between my tits. You give me something of a smirk, before asking me why there’s a wet spot on my panties.

You and I know the answer, but I tell you anyway. I tell you that it’s because you’re treating me so good, it’s because you’re making me horny beyond belief, it’s because I’m your whore. Each word reddens my face. Each word intensifies yours. 

You ask me if I want to be touched. I tell you yes, please touch me.

You give me one word: Beg.

That makes me lose my mind. I’m spewing out words, I’m calling myself a cumslut, I’m telling you that I want your hands everywhere, that I’ll do anything for your touch, that I’ll be good, that I’ll be so good for you. My voice is soft, but it’s shaky with desire.

You wait for me to trail off, and you scoot back a bit so you can bend over and kiss the inside of my thigh. You deliver a few kisses, in fact, but some are so light I can hardly feel them. I let out a whimper. You’re making my skin electric.

A few more kisses are pressed to my other thigh, before you finally move in and kiss my pussy through the soaked fabric of my panties. It’s a thrilling relief to the nonstop throbbing there, and I make a noise between a whine and a moan. 

The dulled sensation of every single kiss you press to me afterwards is enough to drive me insane. I’m writhing, unable to contain the sensation. You move on to licking me, then sucking—all through the tainted fabric that wraps around my hips. I can hardly breathe. You feel amazing. I cover my mouth with my hands, squeezing my eyes shut, trying desperately not to make anymore noises. They sound pathetic. But you come up, just for a second, and tell me that I better move my fucking hands because you want to hear what you do to me. You want to hear the delicious noises that your whore makes.

It’s degrading. I love it.

I move my hands as you move yours, hooking your fingers beneath the elastic and sliding it down ever so slowly. It tickles, and I can’t help but giggle, and the corners of your lips twitch upwards slightly.

Eventually, my panties are off my legs, and you toss those too aside. Your hands guide my thighs over your shoulders, so that my knees rest atop you perfectly. It sets you up to scoot forward a bit, hold my hips, and deliver a kiss to the sensitive hole.

Each pounding heartbeat of mine echoes with a throb in my pussy as you finally, finally fucking start to kiss me there. You start at the top and work down, then coming back up. And then you start to delve your tongue into every fold of me. Whenever I make a noise of delight, you pay extra attention to where you’re licking me, and electricity flows through every nerve within me. Every sense is heightened; every feeling is intensified tenfold.

It’s a short while before you finally dip your tongue inside. I gasp audibly. It feels so fucking good. Your tongue swirls around, somehow making me even wetter than I was. You’re so good.

I swear. Your eyes flash up, you see what you’re doing to me, and you continue to focus on me. Every movement you make, every movement of your tongue and your lips, it makes me shiver.

I’m already close. It’s only been a few minutes—ten? fifteen?—but I’m unbelievably close. You pull away, somehow sensing this, and start to creep your fingers into my hole. You start with two, knowing how desperate I am, and feel them around, prodding at every inch of my walls, sneaking farther into my body than I ever could with my own hands. You find a spot inside of me that makes me squeal, and you press on it. Hard. It’s intense, it almost hurts with how good it is, but I beg for more. 

I tell you I’m close. I make it very, very clear.

You continue, adding a third finger to the mix. Your hands are everywhere. The way my legs are bent stretches me farther than is comfortable, but it’s okay. The sensations you’re giving to me make up for it. 

The moment your thumb moves to put pressure to my clit, I let out a full-on moan. It’s so fucking good. I start again spewing out words, begging for more, begging for less, begging for you to make me come. Please, I ask in a broken voice, please can I come?

You don’t answer my question. Instead, you tell me that I better be enjoying this. That I better love being your personal whore, because you treat me so well. Look at how you’re treating me now. You’re treating me better than any other whore.

Your thumb moves on my clit. I cry out.

I agree, I tell you in a mumble that I love what you do to me. I ask again. If I could function I’d be groveling, but my vocabulary has shrunk and I can only ask for you to let me come, please, I need to come, please, please, Dom, please.

Your eyes flick up once again.

You can come, you say.

It takes a moment for your words to register before I’m filled with that familiar electric feeling all throughout my body, and I clench every muscle that I can. It’s bordering on painful, what I’m feeling, just from the sheer intensity of it. I whimper again, and again, and again, unable to control the noises coming from my mouth as the very pit of my stomach twists and turns. It’s so good. You keep fingering me through It, intensifying the sensation immensely. I can’t breathe. It’s so fucking good.

God, I love you.

I finish. It takes a while, and for that while I’m panting, trying to catch my breath, trying to control the pulsing that I know you can feel within my walls. It takes a while, but I finally relax. Euphoria fills my head.

I can feel you climbing up to the top of my body, kissing me along your way, taking your time. It’s unimaginably relaxing to feel your lips on my electrified skin, and I smile. You eventually reach my lips, gifting me with a few more kisses before you lay down beside me. I love you, I say.

You move closer to my ear, holding me in your arms.

You’re lucky I’m giving you time to recover, you say.

I shiver as you tell me that you’re only just starting.


End file.
